Are you serious?

Nell: ‘Let’s go to the beach,’ she says.

Me: I thought it was a good idea.

Nell: ‘It will be fun,’ she says.

Me: I thought it would be.

Nell: ‘The storm has passed,’ she says.

Me: I thought it had.

Nell: Do you know how much flying sand mixed with sea water hurts?

Me: I do now.

Nell: Getting over the dunes with the wind against us was like climbing Mount Everest.

Me: Going back was fast though.

Nell: Even Harriet took one look at the sea and shook her head.

Me: I know. It was a dreadful idea. The weather seemed calmer back at home.

Nell: Did it really though? Weren’t the overturned bins a clue?

Me: It wasn’t one of my wisest decisions. It looks much brighter now.

Nell: Oh no you don’t. I am going to ask Tony when he delivers the post. I’m not trusting you. He usually knows what’s happening with the weather.

Me: Fair enough.

Nell: Now, what’s your opinion on poetry?

Me: I like it. Especially yours.

Nell: But what about the Queen?

Me: Does she write poetry?

Nell: No, I mean would she like a poem dedicated to her?

Me: Absolutely.

Nell: David has written one you see.

Me: Has he? Bless him. Can I hear it?

Nell: ‘Dear Queen I want to say to you,

We love you lots, we really do.

You’re like a dog bowl full of joy

To me, your Big Brave Beautiful Boy.’

Me: That’s adorable.

Nell: I’m not at all sure one should address Her Majesty as ‘Dear Queen’, or refer to her as a dog bowl.

Me: She’ll love it.

Nell: But he wants to perform it in interpretive dance with Gladys as the bowl.

Me: Priceless.

Nell: Are you serious?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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